


when the tables are turned

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Drinking, Gen, Inhumans (Marvel), Jealousy, Plot Twists, Roz is not HYDRA but Roz is also not a nice person, Slow Dancing, Speculation, Suspicions, Twizzlers is a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story from Rosalind's POV. Speculation about future plot twists. There's only implied stuff here, pretty canon-friendly. Not Price friendly, though!</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the tables are turned

The hand low across her back.   
  
A too intimate gesture.  
  
She takes a sip from her martini and watches him turn the girl on the dance floor.  
  
They've never even danced.  
   
First time for everything, she thinks, downing the rest of the glass and putting it on the passing waiter's tray.

She walks up behind them when they’re near the edge of the floor, his back still to her.  
  
“Mind if I cut in?”  
  
They stop dancing and the girl almost slips, almost glares at her, she thinks.  
  
_Good._

She's been playing this game a lot longer than her.   
  
She's not even supposed to be here. How did she know?  
  
Is he feeding her information?  
  
Daisy Johnson shouldn't bite off more than-  
  
“Sure,” she replies, like it all means nothing. Withdrawing her hands from his.  
  
“Phil,” she adds, her eyes catching his again for just a moment.  
  
Phil turns around, puts his hands out.  
  
She takes them and they start to glide across the floor with everyone else.  
  
“Want to tell me what this is about?” he asks, smiling.  But his voice is tense.  
  
“What? Are you going to tell me I'm a part of some sordid love triangle this whole time?”

Trying to make it sound like a joke.   
  
“No,” he scoffs, staring at her strangely.  “She has something we want.”  
  
“I'm not denying that, but do you really have to-“  
  
“Flirt?” he asks, turning her.  
  
“That was more than flirting. That was-“  
  
“Doing my job?”  
  
“She's half your age,” she sniffs, looking around the room.

Where is she?  If Malick finds out she’s here, it could blow the whole thing.              
  
“Not quite,” he says with a smirk, as her eyes dart up to his. “But close.”  
  
“Stop being so smug,” she answers through her teeth.  
  
“I don't seem to recall you minding so much when you wanted to get me over to your side.”  
  
She stares at him. Long and cold.

“I should have her arrested,” she threatens.  “She’s on the watch list.”

“And then,” he cuts in, “We’d never find out what she wants.  Where the Inhumans’ base of operations is.”

“You seem pretty sure of that,” she throws back at him. “Why, because you trained her?”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head at her, like she has no idea what she’s talking about.

He _has_ helped. 

He’s been good at anticipating all of Johnson’s plays while they try to beat HYDRA and Inhumans to _more_ Inhumans.

The game has changed, and she’s had to adjust.  They all want their own teams, before TSHTF.  
  
“This had better not backfire, or there will be hell to pay.”  
  
“I'll do my best, boss.”

 

###

 

The nerve of her.

And what’s with her wearing her hair like that?

Almost like she’s…mocking her.  That’s not her look at all.

They’re drinking at the bar together, and she can’t help but notice how they seem so at ease with one another.

Of course they are.  
  
She's his protégée or something.  
  
Come to think of it, he never actually told her what they are to each other.  
  
Everything fell apart for him when he went after HYDRA on his own.  
  
They asked him to resign. His own people.  
  
She felt bad enough about him being totally humiliated to offer him a job at the ATCU, help her clean house.   
  
Get to the bottom of what Malick was doing.  
  
Truthfully, his personal vendetta against HYDRA was why she offered him the job in the first place.  
  
_He_ could be ruthless. Get _his_ hands dirty.   
  
And if things didn't work out, he's the perfect excuse.  SHIELD is a disaster and everyone wants them out of the way.

Getting that May woman to even cooperate with them is causing her headache enough.  At least she seems totally uninterested in Inhumans.  
  
Except…Phil.

He doesn't look very ruthless right now.  
  
More like he knows _exactly_ what he's doing.  
  
She watches them both pick their drinks up, and walk towards the patio.  
  
“You want me to follow them?”

“Dammit, Banks,” she says, hissing at the man standing just behind her.

She hates it when he creeps up on her like that.  She pays him to creep up on other people.

“No,” she says. “I’ll handle it.”

“You shouldn’t trust him,” Banks replies, like he’s just waiting for the kill order.

“I don’t.”

 

###

 

She hears them laughing before she even sees them.

Around a corner and out of sight from any onlookers.

Phil didn’t have these kinds of ‘moves’ when she first met him.

He was all wrong-footed and trying to make sure she didn’t get the upper hand.

This is putting her…on edge. 

She _hates_ this.

“There you are,” she announces, turning the corner.

They’re sitting together on one of the benches. Very close.

Daisy straightens suddenly, instead of leaning towards him like…

“Rosalind,” he smiles at her, friendly enough.  Relaxed.

_Annoying._

“We were just catching up.  Would you like to join us?”

“I would,” she says, walking around to sit down on the other side of Daisy.

Such a cute name.  Who gives someone with powers like that such a cute name?

“The two of you seem really close.”

The other woman shifts so that she’s not leaning towards him anymore, just between them.

“Mmm,” Daisy says, taking a long sip of her drink, nods. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

Phil smiles like he’s about 14 years old, and looks down at the glass he’s holding.

“Seems like someone with your…abilities,” she replies, “Should be careful about getting too tipsy? Wouldn’t want to bring the whole house down.”

“Inhuman metabolism,” she answers, crunching on a piece of ice from her glass.

“Yes,” she answers, feeling her eyes want to roll into the back of her head. “Of course.”

She watches her cross her legs and the slit on the side of her dress exposes a long expanse of leg.

“Oopsies,” Daisy says, laughing, trying to pull the fabric back up looking over at Phil.

He doesn’t even blink. 

 _She’s_ blinking.

What the hell _is_ this?

 

###

 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks on the car ride home.

Is he really expecting her to answer that?

No.  He didn’t.

He got Daisy to leave before they met with Malick.

And now they know what Malick wants.

 _Daisy_ , of course.

“Did she give you the location of their rebel base?” she asks him flatly, staring out of the window.

“Because that would be useful.”

“Is...that a Star Wars reference?” he asks, sounding unsure.

“Phil, you being ‘funny’ is not what I’m in the mood for right now.”

And no, it wasn’t a Star Wars reference, but it’s rude and she’s _not_ the bad guy here.

“Not the location,” he says settling back in his seat.  
  
“But I think she gave away some important details. I have a few ideas in mind.”  
  
She hears the sound of plastic crinkling and turns to look at him, reaching for something inside the pocket of his tuxedo jacket.  
  
He pulls the thing out and starts to unwrap it, taking a long string of red licorice out of the package.  
  
“Are those…Twizzlers?” she asks, staring at him as he slides one into his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully.  
  
“We can start working up a strategy tomorrow morning. Now that we know what Malick wants.”  
  
“At least you didn't blow it,” she throws back. “She almost compromised us.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘thanks’.”  
  
He starts to chew, and rests the candy against his lap.  
  
Doesn't even offer her one.  
  
Which, no. Ridiculous.   
  
What kind of grown man carries around Twizzlers, much less in a tuxedo?  
  
“More importantly, what did _she_ want?” she presses.  
  
“That” he says with a sigh, “I'm not sure about.”  
  
Really.

He's not sure.

After flirting with her all night.  
  
“She's trouble.”  
  
“I would have to agree,” he nods.


End file.
